


And the port ran away on its legs

by ineffablesheep



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Jokes, Bechdel Test Pass, Female Friendship, Gen, I kept losing track of the bottle of port
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:43:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3221096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablesheep/pseuds/ineffablesheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr post that went along the lines of "imagine two vampires getting drunk and trying to describe each other"</p><p>Maladict and Victoria have a night in and end up describing each other</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the port ran away on its legs

It was twelve thirty at night but the warm summer air was too good to pass up in favour of sleep. Maladict and Victoria lay awake in their pyjamas on the floor of Victoria’s flat. They’d been drinking and had finally hit the point of being pleasantly buzzed. Interestingly, vampires can get drunk, however it takes quite a lot of alcohol. This was why the flat was littered with at least a dozen sprit bottles. It was pretty ordinary as flats went. Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, lounge. The only things that gave away the vampire occupant were the blood bags in the fridge and easy-clean wooden floor. The sound of late night revellers down on the street drifted in the open window. It didn’t bother the tipsy vampires though; they were too absorbed in their conversation.

“How was your date with… with… that tax accountant the other day? Wotsisface?” Maladict, the elder of the pair asked. She poured herself another glass of port. Victoria giggled at her friend and held out her glass for a top up.  
“His name’s Andrew. It was good, like, he said I had a nice nose.” She sipped her port. Maladict returned the port to floor behind them before lying down again.  
“It’s true. You have a lovely nose.” But Victoria sighed.  
“But I can’t see it. I mean I can if I cross my eyes but still.” She grinned at her friend with her eyes focused inwards. Maladict leaned in close and stared carefully at Victoria’s nose.  
“It’s like a thing, ski jump. It’s a little pointy and small and cute. There’re a lot of freckles on it. Actually,” she said, sitting back a bit, “you’re covered in them. Maladict put down her drink, and then reached a wobbly arm across to touch the younger vampire’s nose.  
“BOOP” Victoria goggled again, spilling her drink.  
“I got it.” She rolled till she was siting vaguely upright and dabbed up the spilt drink with her scarf.

“Why do they say port has legs? What does that even mean?” Maladict inspected her glass suspiciously, as though there were tiny legs hiding in her drink. Victoria shrugged. She chucked her damp scarf on the table before lying on her back again.  
“Dunno. Maybe ‘cause you end up legless?”  
“You, Vicki,” Maladict pauses, “are smart. But I’m not legless! Look!” The vampire stands, wobbles, and falls with a thud on their butt. Victoria laughed, curling up on her side and crying until Maladict joined in. It’s all they can do for the next few minutes, clutching at each other for support and mimicking the sound of Maladict landing.

Victoria is the first to calm down. She took another sip of her drink and then spoke.  
“Do you remember what you looked like, Mal?” The older vampire scratched her head.  
“Not really. ‘S been a long time since I could look in a… a… shiny thing?”  
“Mirror.” Victoria interjected.  
“Yeah. One of them. People always said I looked like my granddad. He was tall too.”  
“Well,” Victoria studied her friend’s face carefully, “your eyes are red like wine but not so purple. Like a car stop, intersection thing. Bright like that. Just here,” She traced Maladict’s face with her thumb, “you have crow’s feet ‘cause you’re all smiley. Your nose is nice too. Not like mine though. Your’s is straight and kinda big.”  
“Like Brandylick Funnycat’s? That guy on the tv.” Maladict has closed her eyes, trying to picture it.  
“Benadryl Cookiebatch you mean?”  
“Thinkso.”  
“Nah, more like Pete Townsend.” Maladict’s eyes popped open with horror and Victoria fell back laughing.  
“Nooo! You can’t be serious! Really?” Victoria nodded, biting her lip. Not hard enough to draw blood. She’d need her fangs for that.  
“Ah well, at least I’m not ginger.” It’s Maladict’s turn to laugh as Victoria shrieks and clutched at her neck length locks.  
“Kidding!” she took a gulp of air. "Where’s all that bloody port gone? Did we drink it?” The friends sit up and hunt around for the missing bottle. Maladict vaguely remembers putting it down somewhere but figures it must have been drunk and thrown away if it was gone. Giving up, Victoria grabbed a stray bottle of brandy and cracked it open. She took a swig before handing it over.  
“You’re actually brunette but ’s got red in it. ‘S so pretty.” Maladict hiccupped. “Your eyes are like that angel on that Not Natural show you like. The one that dies.”  
“Everyone dies.” Victoria smiled. Her friend gestured wildly with the bottle, sloshing a little out the top.  
“Nah this one’s short and is actually a god.” Victoria wrinkled her nose in thought, trying to think through the haze.  
“Thor?”  
“Probably. They’re light gold. Like sunlight through honeycomb. Your eyebrows are soft, like your hair. Ad your ears are tiny, like a bear cub.” Maladict took another swig and handed the bottle back to Victoria.  
“Thank you. But not hairy I hope.” She drinks and studied Maladict again.  
“Your hair is sandy blond, and really, really soft.” Victoria strokes a hand through the clean cut strands. There’s a fine line of grey at the base of the blond.  
“Are you dying your hair?” She gasped. Maladict pulled away and covered her head with her hands.  
“NO!”  
“Tell me! Or I’ll tickle you!” The bottle of brandy smashed against the wall as Victoria lept on Maladict. She squirmed and tried to wriggle away.  
“Don’t tickle no no no Vickiiii!” But Victoria didn’t get off her friend.  
“I know your secret.” she gasped and relented. “You dye your hair. And I’m gonna tell everyone.”

Maladict took a deep breath, trying to calm herself enough to speak. “That’s blackmail! You wouldn’t do that.”  
“Is it? I thought it was Tresemme.” Victoria rolled off and reached up, groping around on the nearby table top for a full bottle.  
“I think, I think we‘ve got another bottle of red. Somewhere.”  
What kind?” Victoria sat up and finally found the wine. She squinted at the label.  
“Pinenut Griss?” Maladict groaned and sighed happily.  
“Why must you tempt me so? You’re a bad thing you know that, Vic? You’re a bad… bad… idea? No…”  
“Um, you mean influence?” She suggested. Victoria stretched out on the floor again, bottle in hand.  
“Yeah, infence! ‘Cause we’re drunk. Like skunks. Skuuuunks. Skunky skunk.” Victoria ignored her friend’s rambling in favour of popping the cork out with her teeth. She handed the bottle over to Maladict. She took a mouthful and passed it back thoughtfully.  
“What happened to that port anyway?” She asked. Unknown to the pair, the half full bottle had rolled under the sofa. It would be discovered a week later when Victoria’s fat, fluffy cat got stuck.  
“It probably ran away on its legs.” Victoria answered. “Now, tell me about my smile?”

**Author's Note:**

> My vampires can drink liquids and have a very high alcohol tolerance!
> 
> You may ask (as I did once I had written this) why don’t they just take a photo of each other? Television and Broom Cupboard exist so why not cameras? The answer to that is I don’t know but I think they try and avoid having any record of themselves. When you’re an unaging creature being recognised from a hundred-year-old photo is probably quite annoying (and dangerous)
> 
> Any typos are probably supposed to exist


End file.
